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About Orebro

Last week, I was prowlin’ the streets—needed a laugh, y’know? Saw this one bird, all dolled up, winking at me. Thought, “What’s her deal?” Turns out, she’s got a memory like Lenny—keeps a little book, scribbles down every punter. “Remember, remember,” she mutters, like she’s in my fave movie. Made me cackle—imagine forgetting who you’ve shagged! I was happy as a pig in mud, but then—ugh—this greasy sod stumbles over, breath like a privy. “How much, love?” he slurs. Made me wanna gag. I choose violence, mate—nearly shoved him into the gutter myself.

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We start driving, and he’s all over the place. I mean, we’re swerving like we’re in a dance-off. I’m yellin’, “Stay in your lane!” He’s like, “What lane?” I’m about to lose it. But then, we hit the roundabout at Torggatan, and he nails it! I’m like, “Whoa, where’d that come from?”